It Is We
by rainbow.room
Summary: He'll set fire to his insides just to feel alive. Burn himself just for fun. 2012.


Special shoutout to Jacqui, who gave me the prompt (kind of, ha). And Aertial: is this pure and innocent and untouched enough for you? Lastly, to Daughter. For giving me the song Youth, which I listen to when I'm feeling depressed. And I write when I'm depressed, so thank you.

Secret fun fact: I had not read Fifty Shades of Grey prior to writing this, only the title. But I've just finished the book and it's a creepily similar situation.

* * *

Ruka Nogi.

He sits leaning back, hands clasped in front of him, his legs crossed. He is beautiful, blonde, blue eyed. The interviewer walks in, strutting with his messenger bag bouncing with each step, a notebook and fountain pen in hand. He spots the notorious blonde, sitting alone. For some reason, he doesn't look out of place in a little café meant for couples. He was meant to sit in silence.

The interviewer introduces himself, flashing his teeth. Ruka nods politely before leaning forward and telling the man to get to the point. He does. And there is an on pour of questions about his personal life, his relationship with Natsume Hyuuga and finally, his best friend's girlfriend, Mikan Sakura.

The interviewer speaks confidently, to throw Ruka off. But Natsume has rubbed off on the blonde and he takes it all indifferently. He pushes the golden hair away from his face, thought a few strands fall back gracefully. Cerulean eyes flicking up to focus straight into the interviewer, Ruka smiles. It's pleasant, enough to make the interviewer blush, but it doesn't reach his eyes. Ruka Nogi grew up to be poised and precise, befriending people like Hotaru Imai and Natsume Hyuuga. Only the best for the best.

It is unnerving, his beautiful gaze and the way his smile makes you sigh. Because deep into the depths of his ocean, a storm is brewing.

* * *

It's silly how you think you know him, with his harsh demeanor and even harsher past. The raven locks and his intense ruby eyed glare hiding beneath it. The way he walks like he has no care in the world but he seems to protect Mikan Sakura like his life depends on it. You think you know that he has a kind heart inside because he makes sure nobody else has to go through what he has. It's silly because you simply do not know that boy, and the older he gets, the further you are from ever finding out who the real person behind Natsume Hyuuga is. You think he is just another lost soul, that a clumsy little brunette is all it takes to pry him from his past. But no, not even I know Natsume Hyuuga.

Is it surprising to hear that? That his own best friend cannot even admit that he knows who the Flame Caster really is? But it's simply because even best friend's must keep secrets from each other. And he has kept every secret from me _because_ I am his best friend. Ever the masochist, he believes I cannot protect myself. When it is only him that I cannot protect. And that is the saddest tragedy I have come to know: when I fail to protect the only one I love.

Don't be silly, I'm not in love with him. But I love him deep into my bones, deep into the part of my soul locked away as a child. He is the only person I have ever come to care about and the only person I will ever give up my life for. Because he is my best friend. And there is a special bond between us two. Nobody could understand, though many have tried. It is beyond such a simple matter like love and friendship and tragedy. It is a bond built on trust and lies. Our world is black and white, but inside he is grey as ash.

Yes, I do hate how he has further shied from me. How can I not? That stupid little brunette does not know him like I do, she will never understand him. Because she's a girl and that's all she will ever be. But I? I am his best friend. When he told me to be happy with her, I tried. It didn't work out and I have her to him. Because I never wanted her. Only him, only us. I want only the best for him because that is what a best friend should want. _She_, is selfish and clumsy and cares for another, cares for too many. I care for him, and only him.

He acts like her knight in shining armour but it's only made of dust and he is every shade of grey. He doesn't care for the little things, they burn when he does. The only he keeps is metal and the little diamonds embedded into it. The glass has broken, the ticking has stopped. It happened in another fit of anger, one of the many things he has broken. But still he wears it on his wrist as a reminder that I am the only one that understands him. He'll set it to flame until just before it melts and then slap it on, branding himself with our friendship. So that he remembers just who knows him best. Because she'll never think to buy him anything so genius, with her kiss coated gifts. Materials are meant to be burned; so they do.

Here is a secret she will never know: He'll set fire to his insides just to feel alive. Burn himself just for fun. It doesn't hurt, like you think it does. It feels like home, the one he lost. He does it to remember who he is, who he came here for. And it's not her. It's fire that keeps him going, the flame is his ultimate seductress. Nobody realises just how magnificent his body is. Nobody knows, nobody sees. You can take away his fire but still there is the burn. He's a walking flame, inside and out. Nobody sees, nobody but me. Only I can see this beauty. _His_ beauty.

It's sick. But you'll never understand. Because he simply will not let you like he has for me. Lock us in a room and you have Ruka Nogi. And Natsume Hyuuga. Separate us physically and still you'll have the same result. It is no different because there is more to it than that. There is the blue of my eyes deep into his fire. The golden flecks just at the beginning. And somewhere in between, that is where you'll find his fiftieth shade of grey: Natsume's red.

You have never felt it: just how much the heat _doesn't_ hurt. You'll never know what he can do with his flame, the way his practised hands can touch you just where it should hurt but doesn't. His actions are limitless, so fast and so precise that you shiver with cold as his hands fingers leave your skin. He's special and too complex for your simple mind to understand. It is a pity that you'll never get to know him like I do. Because somewhere inside Natsume Hyuuga, there is the fire of his passion.

_This_? This life? It is all just a game for him and I. He never really tries to escape because it's better in here, for the both of us. It's the only way we stay together. They make him use his fire, it's the only way he gets to see my eyes and his eyes together. They're so stupid, thinking that it isn't his choice when we've simply been playing them all along. This is our game. He likes to burn for fun. I've tried it, I understand. You never will, but trust me, he needs no reason to set himself ablaze.

I am honestly not bitter that he's dating her. She is just a girl and he _will_ grow out of it. I am not jealous because I am not in love with him. There is no such thing as love in our grey. There are so many shades that you won't know what it is. Stare at his fire, _watch_. There's me, right at the deepest and hottest part of his flame and my golden at the tips. He's bigger, his red. But his fire is made of two parts: Him. And I.

He doesn't need anything else. Not her clumsy little flashes or her cries for help. Not the clothes on his back or the hair to hide his eyes. All he needs is me and that little strap of metal on his wrist to remind him just who he comes home to. His fire means home. His fire means protection, it means black and white and grey and blue and gold and red. He'll keep his secrets, his petty little feelings, from me. But I know, I always know. I cannot protect him from those dangers that he hides from me, but he'll learn.

You see, it is not about _feelings_. That is such a childish word. He'll burn just to feel, _that_ is what feelings are. Pry us apart and I'll still feel him in the ends of the earth. Lock us in a room and you'll have the same result. He is me. It is we. You came in here with your little notepad and your questions, thinking I'd give you a simple answer. But life isn't simple. Our world is black and white, but him and I make grey. We make fifty different shades and the fiftieth is his flame. That blaze setting him apart from any other you might come across. He is Natsume Hyuuga, the Flame Caster.

You think it's killing him. But he'd be dead without it. Just like he'd be dead without me. So, no, I'm not worried that I'm losing him to Mikan Sakura. She can have his surface bad boy demeanor. He has shied away from me because I _know_ everything he hides, like an extension of hands in a simple hold. She'll buy him little presents and flip her skirt up accidentally. But my actions are limitless as I trail up his throat. Like a game we play when his touch sets your skin on fire. I don't have his alice, but he is Natsume Hyuuga and He is me. I don't need him. _I have him_. It is we.

Confused? You asked for it.

* * *

The interviewer turns around, feeling a dark chill run down his neck. Natsume Hyuuga stands behind him, a small smirk on his face and red eyes ablaze. The interviewer gulps and stands up, giving his seat to the Fire Caster with a bow. Natsume says nothing, he has never been one for pleasantries, that's Ruka's job. Ruka is back in his original position, sitting back with his hands clasped and legs crossed.

Before he sits, Natsume orders something for the both of them to share. Ruka tips his head at Natsume challengingly. Natsume sits, taking the same stance as his best friend. Then when the food comes, he takes the fork and cuts a bite of the cake for Ruka, offering it. Blue eyes meet red as Ruka leans forward, tongue slipping out as his mouth opens and then his lips close over the fork slowly. Natsume takes one hand in his and goose flesh blooms all over Ruka's arm. His eyes flutter closed momentarily before opening again and focusing on Natsume's.

From the doorway, the interviewer watches the two. There are couples around them: the jock and his pretty little girlfriend, a Mr. and Mrs., newlyweds with legs entwined. Ruka and Natsume sit with the table separating them; they both sit up straight, looking each other head on. Their hands have separated and they eat the cake dispassionately, eyes meeting every few seconds. They don't talk like other couples, but they don't look out of place in the little café; they were meant for silence.

The interviewer watches for a few more moments before stepping out of the coffee shop, a little less confused. He keeps his notebook away; all his questions were answered the moment Natsume Hyuuga sat in front of Ruka Nogi.


End file.
